Hangin' Around
by ASKessler
Summary: Slash MesserFlack. Several weeks after their first time together, Danny gets in over his head.


Title: Hangin' Around

Author: A.S. Kessler

Spoilers: Nada

Rating: M (NC-17) Sexual situations/slash Danny-Flack

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Not making any money on it. Just for fun.

"Danny, hang on!"

Danny looked up into the blue eyes of Don Flack, who was looking down on him from the rooftop. Danny was hanging, literally, by his hands, sheer wits and what was left of a canopy frame eight stories up of a ten story building. His shoulders and right forearm were killing him. He'd hit the canopy during his fall and managed to snag the cross bar frame as it snapped under his weight. This was after he'd fallen totally through the first one. His right shoulder was severely pulled; the other was starting to throb and the canopy frame creaked against what was left of its attachment to the building. "Don?" he yelled up. "I can't hang on much longer!" He looked down again at the eight story drop that awaited him and decided that maybe he could hang out there a little longer. It was either that or suddenly sprout wings. And it sure beat the alternative. Danny Messer had no desire to be the next spatula man.

The perp that had knocked Danny over the side of the building was now in custody and Don watched as a couple of uniformed officers hauled him away. He felt helpless. There wasn't a rope anywhere in sight. The fire department had been called but he'd yet to hear the sirens. On the street below, a crowd had gathered to watch.

A voice behind him caught Don's attention. "Flack?" It was Mac Taylor.

"Over here," Flack called out. "Please tell me you have a rope with you."

Mac jogged across the roof with a coil of rope around his shoulder. "Yeah, I got the message that you needed rope, but what's it for?" He glanced over the side and saw one of his CSI's barely hanging onto a metal pole two stories down. Mac had gone into the building from the rear and hadn't seen Danny nor the crowd out front. Don's odd request had suddenly become very clear. "Danny, hang on!" The senior detective turned to Flack. "Where's the fire department?"

Don shrugged and took the rope from Mac. "New York traffic? Who knows. I'm not waiting. I respect the hell outta those guys but Danny's been down there five minutes already." He looked around for something to anchor the rope to and found nothing suitable nearby. He eyed Mac. "You wanna pull or be the anchor?"

Mac took the end of the rope and tied it around his waist, looping it through his belt. "Anchor," Mac replied as he tied. "He's one of mine."

Don Flack nodded and looked down at Danny. "Okay, Danny? We've got a rope here. Mac's gonna be the anchor and I'm gonna pull you up. But I need you to loop the rope around your arms when I toss it down. You're not gonna be able to just hold it; you're too tired and too damaged." _And as soon as I get you up here and we're alone, I'm going over every inch of your body to make sure that creep Harrington didn't mess you up too bad._

"Don," Mac motioned to the other end of the rope in the detective's hands. "Knot the other end twice over."

Don nodded and started to tie a knot in the other end. He heard a sickening crack and glanced over to see that one half of the canopy frame had broken away from the building. There was now only one side - two bolts - keeping Danny from ending up on the pavement eight stories down, and Danny was sliding off the end. "No time," he told Mac and tossed the rope over the side, then swung it over toward Danny. The young CSI was missing his glasses and Don knew that he'd need to come close with the rope for Danny to see it. "Danny! Grab it!"

Danny heard sirens in the distance as the canopy broke loose from half the structure. His body jolted toward the pavement below. The gathered crowd let out a collective gasp of anticipation. There were seven more canopies below, one on each floor except the first and the one above him that he'd totally crashed through. He couldn't trust that they'd hold his weight anymore than the first two had. He felt his hands slipping when the rope clipped him alongside his head. He thought about how to grab it. The rope was on his left side. His right arm was the one in the worst shape. If he let go of the pole with his left arm to grab the rope, he wasn't sure his right shoulder would hold. His hands were sweaty and he was starting to slide.

Mac glanced over the side to check Danny's position and to see how much slack they had. The rope hung down past Danny by a couple of yards. "Danny!" Mac called to him. He saw the pain in the younger man's face and had a feeling that he knew what Danny's hesitation was from. "Danny! Loop the rope around your leg first!" Mac called to him. "Your left leg! Loop the rope around it!"

Danny swung his leg out carefully and quickly swung the rope twice around his calf. Feeling somewhat more confident and a bit pumped from the adrenalin that coursed through his body, he reached out his left hand and snagged the rope. A blinding white light shot through his field of vision as his right shoulder fought to support his total body weight for a few short seconds before it slipped loose completely from the bar. Below him, the fire department ladder truck pulled up.

Mac felt his position shift as Danny's weight switched from the canopy to the rope. His feet slid toward the edge of the building. Immediately he dropped to the rooftop and turned so that his feet were pointed toward the edge. He'd use the roofing edge for a brace. The only way Danny Messer was going to drop now was if he either let go or took Mac with him.

Don grabbed the rope around the center and pulled. It was amazing how light Danny seemed that one time when he'd carried him from the bathroom to the bedroom. That same weight now seemed so much heavier when it dangled from a ten story building.

Seconds later, Don suddenly felt like Danny didn't weigh anything. His heart skipped a beat as he thought the worst. Then he felt a large presence behind him. Two firemen had snagged the rope between Mac and him and were helping pull. One more went to the roof edge to monitor. As soon as Danny's head cleared the top, the fire fighter reached over, snagged him by the waistband of his trousers and pulled him over the top. In the streets below, the crowd erupted in applause.

Don grinned. "Who said New Yorkers don't have heart?" He offered his hand to help Mac up.

"The one who shoved me over the roof, that's who," came the irritated reply from Danny. He was standing now, cradling his right arm with his left.

Mac untied the rope end from his waist and glanced over at Danny. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

Danny nodded. "Don was here when I got to the scene," Danny started. His voice was raspy and a bruise was forming between his neck and collarbone. "While I was processing, someone walked in. I identified myself; he took off. I chased him up to the roof. As soon as I cleared the door, the suspect hit me in the forearm with a two by four. I dropped my gun. He then hit me in the back. I went to subdue him, we struggled. He caught me in the neck with his fist and shoved me over the side."

Mac turned to Detective Flack, who was nodding throughout Danny's story. "That's pretty much it," Don told him. "I heard Danny yell and I followed him up to the roof. By the time I got here, they were over there." He pointed to the edge where they had just recovered the CSI. "Danny was trying to subdue the suspect. The guy caught him here..." he pointed to his own throat in the same area that Danny was starting to bruise. "One shove and Danny caught the edge there and went over the side." Don glanced at Danny. "You are one tough S.O.B., you know that? You amaze me."

Before Danny could comment, Mac glanced between them. "What does that mean?"

"Nothin'," Danny muttered, but Don Flack wasn't going to let the matter drop.

"Nothin'? Danny, that guy was twice your size."

"Oh he was not!"

Mac looked between the two and tried to decide whether to be concerned or amused. "Uh, gentlemen? Danny, we'll want to process you for bruising on assault. I'll ride with you."

Danny's head shook. "Oh, no no no no, Mac. I do _not _need an ambulance."

Somehow, Mac Taylor wasn't surprised at the refusal. "Then I'll _drive _you," he replied. Danny was going to the hospital to get checked out if Mac had to sit on him to get him there.

Don handed Mac the pistol that Danny had dropped during the assault, Danny's glasses which one of his crew had picked up from the rooftop, as well as the two by four piece of lumber that the man had used to disarm him. Mac immediately handed Danny's glasses over to him. "Harrington is six foot four and has at least sixty, maybe eighty, pounds on Messer," Don told Mac. "And right until he got caught in the throat, Messer was holding his own."

"Somebody clarify something for me," Danny said as the three headed in off the roof. "In the history of the department as we know it, has yelling the phrase 'freeze, NYPD' **_EVER _**worked?"

After a trip to the Emergency Room, a ride back to the department with Mac and two more hours filling out paperwork, Danny finished changing in the locker room and turned only to find Don Flack waiting for him. "How're you feeling?"

Danny sighed. He'd been teased ever since he got back to the station; some of the footage was already on the news networks and the taunts of him just 'hanging around' on the job had begun. Danny couldn't wait until someone else had a case more bizarre so he'd be off the hot seat. He sincerely hoped it was Aiden. Although he didn't wish her any bad fortune, she'd been the one who started the teasing. "I'm okay," he told Don. "Doc said I pulled a few muscles in my shoulder; hairline cracked two ribs. Bumps and bruises, mostly. Beats being a greasy spot on the sidewalk."

"Mac's letting you work?" Don seemed surprised. He had been genuinely shocked when he found out that Danny had gone back to the station after he was released from the hospital emergency room.

Danny shrugged. "Paperwork galore today. He told me to take tomorrow off and he'll have me in the lab for a couple weeks. I'd rather be in the lab than sitting around staring at my apartment walls, that's for sure."

"What're you doing tonight?" Don asked him. The two men were supposed to play basketball that evening.

Danny just recalled the game and groaned. "Don, I'm sorry. I can't shoot hoops tonight. Probably not for a few weeks anyway. Tell the guys I'm sorry and if they want to know why, tell them to watch the eleven o'clock news."

"Already called and cancelled," Don told him. "I figured you'd be sore. I thought you might wanna come over and hang out at my place for awhile. We could throw in a DVD, order food in, toss down a couple beers. Doc give you any good meds?"

"Vicodin," Danny replied with a shrug.

A big grin flashed across the detective's chiseled features. "Vicodin and a beer or two and we'll just melt you into a Messer puddle." He nudged Danny gently. "C'mon. I'll even let you pick out the movie." He dropped his arm gently over Danny's shoulder, picked up the CSI's gym bag and guided the man out of the locker room before he could protest.

Mac poked his head outside of his office as the two passed. "Danny, stay home tomorrow," Mac told him. "I mean it. Get some rest."

"I'm taking him home with me, Mac," Don piped up. "I'm off tomorrow and I'll make sure he behaves. If he tries coming in, I'll sit on him until the urge passes."

Mac grinned. "Good luck with that." He knew how stubborn Danny Messer could be. He also knew that Don and Danny were pretty good friends. They often hung out together after hours and they played sports together. What he didn't know was that Detective Don Flack had Danny Messer's number.

A cab ride later, Don let Danny into his apartment. The CSI dropped his gym bag next to the door and kicked off his shoes first thing. Don tossed his jacket and keys on the small table next to the door and headed inside. "What're you in the mood for, Danny? Pizza? Chinese? Burgers?" He fished through a drawer looking for his menu stash.

Danny stepped into Don's small living room and glanced over the man's collected DVD's. "Uh, any good Italian in the area?"

Don searched through the menus until he found the one he wanted. "This place is pretty good," he admitted. He stepped up behind Danny and reached around the man to hand off the menu.

Danny turned, a bit surprised by the closeness. It had been several weeks since that first time they'd spent together. It seemed that one of their schedules was always conspiring with the other or they had friends with them. Danny found himself wondering what was going through the detective's head right then, and he found himself recalling that first night and the day after. Finally, he snapped himself out of his own memory and took the menu from Don. "Uh..." he stammered. "Thanks." _Why did his brain always refuse to work around Flack? _He pushed the thoughts aside and glanced over the menu.

Don refused to back up and he studied Danny as he read the menu. _Lips move when he reads, _Don noted. _That's cute. _"Hey," he thought of something. "Did you call your girlfriend and tell her what happened? What's her name? Bridget?"

"Brooke," Danny looked up and met the taller man's gaze. _Why was Don bringing HER up? _"And no. If she doesn't see me hanging there on the news, I'll talk to her tomorrow or the day after."

"You two serious?"

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Nah," he said in typical Danny fashion. "She's okay for a grocery store pickup. We don't have too much in common. I mean, she teaches kindergarten; what does she need with another thirty year old kid, huh?"

"Yeah, you are a big kid, Danny Messer," Don teased. He didn't know why but he found himself suddenly relieved that Danny and this Brooke chick weren't tight. He didn't think they were from the way Danny had described the two dates he'd had with her, but it didn't hurt to check. He poked the menu. "Know what you want?"

"A massage and a long, hot shower, that's what I want." Danny couldn't believe he just blurted that out in front of Don. Then again, Don Flack had this way of drawing Danny outside of his normal sensibilities. He looked the menu over once more. "Mostaccioli with the meat sauce," Danny told him. "And order a couple cannolis."

Don called in the order, adding fettuccini alfredo for himself. He set his cell phone back down and watched Danny's back as the man continued to study his DVD's. "Well? What're we watching, Messer?"

Danny finally made a selection and handed it back. "Spaceballs," he said. "I want something so totally stupid and brainless that I don't have to concentrate."

Don laughed. "This'll do it," he admitted. He set the case on top of the player and motioned for Danny to come by him. "First things first. Come with me." He led Danny to his bedroom, went to his dresser and withdrew a sleeveless white t-shirt and a pair of long john bottoms. "Lose 'em Messer."

Danny's look was blank, if not confused. "Huh?"

Don walked over and tugged Danny's shirt from his trousers. "Strip," he told Danny. "I told myself that if we got you off the side of that building in one piece and as soon as we were alone, I was going to look you over myself. We're alone. Strip."

Danny studied his friend. "Don, the doctors..." he couldn't finish his sentence. When he hadn't started to disrobe, Don stepped up to him and started undoing his shirt buttons. _Wow, is he quick, _Danny mused. He licked his upper lip absently and wondered if his body was thinking other thoughts. He felt a slight stirring in his trousers and tried to talk it down. _Baseball. Why does anyone think that works when you have bats, balls and talk of scoring?_

Don ran his hands over Danny's chest as soon as he had the man shirtless. His touch was more methodical than sexual right then; he was truly checking Danny over. Danny's right forearm was deeply bruised, as was his back along the ribcage and his shoulder near the neck. Don moved his hands to Danny's pants and unbuckled the belt, then unbuttoned his trousers and started to slide them down over Danny's hips, taking his underwear along with.

"Don, I'm not runnin around here nak..." Danny started to protest when he saw Don shaking his head.

"Don't expect you to, Messer," came the reply. "But you're damaged and you're supposed to relax and since all you have with you here are sweats and you'll need those to leave in tomorow, then you can throw these on now." He handed Danny the navy blue jockey long johns. "They'll be big on you," he added. "But they should stay up." _Not that them falling off of you would be a bad thing. _

Danny turned his back to start putting on the makeshift pajamas when he felt Don's hand come down sharply on his backside. Just once but it was enough to make him jump and his backside throbbed at the stinging slap. "What the _hell _was that for?" Danny turned quickly as he pulled the pants over his hips. _Don Flack had just swatted him! What the hell?_

"For scaring the shit outta me, Messer," Don retorted. The door chime sounded just then, signaling that their food had arrived. Don pulled out his wallet. "Dinner's on me," he told Danny. "I'll go down and get it; you snag us a couple cold beers from the fridge."

Danny headed to the fridge and snagged a couple of beers from inside. Don's refrigerator wasn't stocked for the apocalypse but it wasn't empty either. He actually had things like milk and cheese inside. _Doin' better than I am. I think I have a half stick of butter, three cans of soda and two bottled waters in mine. Anything else probably qualifies for science fair experimentation. _He headed back into the living room just as Don came back in with the food.

Don shook his head at Danny. "Wow, you're really lookin' messed up, Messer," he commented. He set the food down and rifled through Danny's gym bag for the bottle of pills. "Take this," he handed off the little white pill. "With food in your stomach, it won't knock you off your ass so quick."

Danny took the pill and downed it dry, then put the DVD into the player and sat down on the floor to eat, using the coffee table top for his food. Don sat on the couch behind him and ate with the carry-away container on his lap. As soon as he was done, he reached over Danny and set the container on the coffee table and studied the man on the floor in front of him. Danny's shoulders and neck still seemed tense. Don reached over and brushed his fingertips across the tattoo on Danny's right upper arm. The bruising along his neck almost reached it and by morning probably would.

Don brushed his thumb across Danny's hairline along his neck and a smile flashed across his face when the man's head lulled forward. Don exerted a little more pressure and a groan escaped Danny's throat.

"Ohhhhhhhh what're you doin' Don?" Danny murmured. The more pressure Don used on his aching body, the better he felt.

The dark haired detective stretched out sideways on the sofa and propped himself up on one elbow. His other hand never left Danny's neck, but now his head was right next to Danny's neck. He leaned over to whisper in the CSI's ear. "Hopefully relaxin' you Messer," he whispered. His warm breath blew across Danny's ear.

Danny shifted and turned his head. His lips were inches from Don's. He felt no less confused than the first time they were together but now, the combination of vicodin and beer in his system threw any inhibitions he had into the wind. Danny leaned over and pressed his lips to Don's, his tongue probing gently into the other man's mouth.

Don kissed him back tenderly for a minute, then rested his hand behind Danny's neck and pulled the man in closer. He took control of the kiss Danny had begun, his tongue mixing with Danny's and eventually crossed over into his mouth. When they finally parted, his own blue eyes looked deep into Danny's, past the lenses and into his soul. "I don't know what it is about you," he whispered. "I can't imagine doing..." he gestured absently "...this, with any other guy." He ran his fingers into the back of Danny's very short hair and massaged his neck lightly.

"I know the feeling," Danny whispered back. "Like, what does this make us? Lovers? Friends who screw from time to time? What?"

Don smirked at him. Danny had to over-analyze everything. It was irritating, yet so much a part of Danny's personality that it was one of his cute little quirks. "We're friends, Danny," Don told him. "We're just a little more expressive about it. And like I told you before, what we do behind closed doors is our business and nobody else's. I don't want you to feel awkward or weirded out about this."

"I did at first," Danny admitted. "Then I figured a few smooches and a tumble through the sheets wasn't worth getting all weirded out about, ya know?"

Don inclined his head in agreement and pulled Danny closer for another 'smooch'. Most times, Danny Messer was an easy read; he wore his emotions on his sleeve displayed for everyone. Then there was that part he kept locked up inside. He'd known Danny for a few years now and he knew that the man had a few deep, dark secrets. It didn't matter to Don; he figured that everyone was entitled to a secret or two. He had a couple of his own.

Danny loosened the buttons of Don's shirt and slipped one hand inside, resting it against Don's chest, his fingers nestled into the hair there. He could feel the steady thump-thump of Don's heart under his hand.

Don smiled and ran his fingers along Danny's back and through his hair. "C'mon, Messer," Don finally said. He shifted and started to get up, bringing Danny up with him. The CSI groaned when he went to stand.

"Ugh, go where?" Danny grumbled. "I'm startin' to feel this now." He ached everywhere. While he sat still, his muscles had started to relax. Now they were protesting the prospect of moving. At first, he had refused the idea of pain killers. The doctor prodded him into the medication by telling him that he would feel considerably worse over the next day or two. Mac made sure that Danny had the prescription filled before they returned to the station.

"The drugs and beer or the two story drop?"

"The drop," Danny told him. Don managed to pull him to a standing position and, sure enough, his body protested. "Where're we going?"

"Shower," Don replied. "Nice long, hot shower, as I believe you mentioned wantin' earlier. That'll kick start the meds. And once you're nice and relaxed, I just might have my way with you."

"Oh you think so, huh?" Danny grinned as Don prodded him toward the bathroom. "I think it's my turn, don't you?"

"We'll see," Don teased him. As it was, the thought of Danny working him over made his own trousers twitch. "I like making you whimper, remember?" He slid out of his shirt as soon as he reached the bathroom and tossed it into the hamper. He kicked off his shoes and socks, then removed his belt.

Danny lowered the toilet seat lid and sat down. He watched Don as the detective stripped down, admiring the hard lines of the man's fit body. With his glasses still on, he could admire his friend's physique and see it clearly. Don was in excellent shape: lean, yet muscular. He'd seen him shirtless any number of times when the two shot hoops, but this was the first time he'd taken the opportunity to acually look for the sake of looking. As soon as Don dropped his trousers and boxers, Danny heard himself gasp. "No wonder I couldn't hardly sit the next day," he whispered.

Don glanced over and grinned, then pulled Danny to his feet by the front of his t-shirt. He slid the shirt over the CSI's head and let it fall to the floor. He trailed his hands down Danny's back until he reached the long johns waistband. As he started to slide them over Danny's hips, Danny leaned over and licked his tongue across his nipple. Don froze for a minute when he realized what Danny was doing. By the time his brain engaged again, Danny had taken the little hardening nub between his teeth and pulled at it gently. Don groaned, "Fiesty, Danny." In one swift motion, he had the long john bottoms low enough for Danny to step out of them.

Danny kept both hands on Don, wrapped around the man. He nuzzled his cheek against Don's chest as he nibbled at the man's nipple. It felt good to have someone touching him; Don's hands were still on his back. Don's groan just egged him on and he could feel the man starting to stiffen against him.

"Awww man," Don groaned again. He tried to extract himself from Danny's mouth long enough to get them both in the shower. "C'mon Messer... shower. Water... hot... relaxing..." _Man does he have a talented mouth._

Danny broke off his contact with Don but smiled slyly as he blew his breath across the hard little nub which was still wet with his saliva. It hardened more. Danny's cobalt eyes flickered further south on Don's body and he noticed that his nipple wasn't the only thing hardening.

Don removed Danny's glasses and set them on the sink edge, then nudged the man into the shower and stepped in behind him. Danny groaned loudly as the hot spray beat down on his battered body. Don nudged him and turned him to face the wall. "Up against the wall, Messer. Assume the position."

"Oh fuck you, Don," Danny growled back. "I heard that enough in my day; don't you start." He didn't fight the larger man though when Don turned him to face the shower wall. He placed both of his hands up against the wall on either side of his head, shifted his feet apart slightly and rested his head against the cool tile.

Don chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, Messer. Everyone knows what a young punk you are." He almost said 'were' but changed his mind. Danny was still a bit of a punk; it was one of his more endearing qualities. Don lathered up his hands with the bar of soap and put them on Danny's shoulders, massaging him gently but firmly. The CSI let out a low, deep moan. "Atta boy," Don cooed in Danny's ear. "Just let those drugs and that beer help and let your buddy Don here turn you into a Messer puddle." He lathered his hands again and reached around Danny to wash his chest. He ran his hands through the smattering of soft hair on Danny's chest and leaned over so that he could lick at Danny's ear. Don nibbled on the man's earlobe and felt Danny shiver in front of him. "That's it," he whispered. "Relax."

As the soap suds ran down Danny's body and into the tub, he began to relax. "You have talented hands, Flack," Danny murmured. He hadn't intended to say the comment out loud but his brain was beginning to fuzz over. He turned around to face the detective and held out his hand for the soap. "My turn," he announced.

"Who said you get a turn?" Don teased him, but he put the bar of soap in Danny's hand anyway.

Danny lathered up his hands and started at Don's shoulders, working his way down the man's broad chest. As that rinsed down the man's body and into the drain, Danny soaped up his hands again and moved lower. His hands moved carefully across Don's abs and finally between the man's legs.

Don had to reach over and hold onto the wall while Danny washed him. As Danny's hands glided effortlessly over his manhood, Don felt himself stiffen more. Danny eased down in the tub to a sitting position and wedged himself in sideways, practically underneath Don's legs. The hot water rinsed the soap off Don's midsection and soaked Danny's hair. Don felt Danny's hand cupping his testicles, then a pressure on his growing erection. Danny had him in his mouth! Seconds later, he found out just how talented that tongue of Danny's really was.

Don laced the fingers of his right hand into Danny's short, wet hair and kept the other on the wall. Danny had wrapped his left arm around Don's leg and was practically holding the man up. It was more for survival; if Don's knees gave out and he fell on Danny in the shower, it was doubtful either man would be able to extract themselves. Danny's right hand had shifted behind the man and was exploring whatever he could reach.

The last time they had been together, Danny had marvelled at how different Don felt: same skin, same veins, similar hairlines and textures, yet it wasn't his own. Still, if they were built the same, then chances are that Don would like being touched in the same places Danny knew he liked being touched. He focused on those areas and Don let out a deep, resounding groan. With his fingers fisted into Danny's hair, Don had some measure of control over where Danny's head went and how far down he'd go. Danny could feel the pressure when Don nudged deep into his throat; he could feel him up against the roof of his mouth and he had to make some adjustments to keep from gagging.

Finally, before he knew he wouldn't be able to stop, Don pulled himself from Danny's mouth, now fully erect. Danny looked up Don's hard body and found his face just as Don's gaze fell to Danny. To Danny, Don was a blur but he was a good-looking blur. Don's focus went straight into those cobalt blue eyes that were usually behind lenses. Danny had beautiful eyes, he noted. His eyelashes were very light brown. He turned loose of Danny's hair and traced his thumb over Danny's upper lip, noting the almost scruff of a moustache the man usually had, then over his chin which had the same amount of scruff.

Don reached over and turned the water off, then shoved the curtain aside and stepped out. Neither man had bothered to take out towels so Don crossed the two short steps to the small closet and pulled out two.

Danny didn't realize to what extent he was buzzed until he went to stand again. The whole room spun and he gripped the sides of the tub to keep from landing face down against the porcelain. "Whoa, stop the planet; I want off," Danny muttered.

Don was at his side instantly. He threw a large thick towel over Danny's back and lifted the man from the tub. He set Danny's legs on the ground and hung onto his midsection. "Hands around my neck, Messer... c'mon."

Danny reached around Don's neck, his shoulders crying out in protest. The strain was relieved the second Don snagged him behind his knees and back and lifted him off his feet. "You're always carryin' me," Danny mumbled into the larger man's chest.

"You're always a mess, Messer," Don retorted as he headed for the bedroom. "Besides, I'm not _always _carryin' you. Twice isn't always."

"I'm fine," Danny told him. "It's jus' that the room started spinnin' when I got up. I'm vaso-dilated from the heat in the shower. When I got up, the blood left my head for my legs an'..."

Don cut him off as he laid him down on the bed. "Quit bein' a CSI for awhile," he told Danny as he climbed in next to him. Danny was trying to finish his train of thought while he still could, but Don shut him up by pressing his lips to Danny's. His tongue crossed over into Danny's mouth as he kissed the man deep and passionate. His fingers wrapped around Danny's member and Don stroked him gently, coaxing the man's stiffness into an erection.

Their first time together had been a tension reliever; a whirlwind of emotion and an explosion of sheer heat. Don hadn't figured there'd ever be a second time; both men considered themselves heterosexual. But Don knew that being with Danny Messer was a type of friendship that was impossible to explain. Danny had trust issues: _huge_ ones. He was high strung, emotional and strong-willed. Yet as he explored Danny's mouth, he felt Danny's responses and they were definitely positive and willing. Together, they shared the ultimate trust issue: intimacy.

Danny felt Don's tongue exploring his mouth and he let his own tongue wander against it. His hands touched whatever he could. They slid down Don's back, across his shoulders and into his thick dark hair. Their first time together was a blur to him. He'd been so shocked and emotional that he could only remember the feeling of Don rocking inside him and his words in his ears. He had touched Don with some coaching and instruction. Now, he wanted to explore.

In one swift motion, Don straddled Danny's hips and placed his hands on either side of Danny's head. He could feel Danny's hardness press against his own heavy testicles and he knew they were both aching with need. Danny's hands had been all over his back, shoulders and hair; the man wanted to explore. And Don was willing to let him. Danny touched him everywhere. His hands caressed Don's thighs, his manhood, his abs. Deft fingers tugged at his nipples. It wasn't long before Don shifted off of him and went for his nightstand drawer. If he wasn't inside Danny Messer in the next couple of minutes, he was going to lose his mind. He tore open the condom and rolled it on himself. The first time he'd let Danny do it; now if Danny touched him there, the protection might not make it on. He snagged one more recent purchase from the drawer and dabbed a little of the contents onto a finger.

Danny watched Don as he dropped something from a tube onto his finger. The man then reached over between Danny's legs and ran the wet finger across his anus. Whatever he'd put on was cold and wet and slippery. Don's fingertip darted inside him and Danny's eyes grew big as he gasped in air. "What was that?" he groaned.

"Something to make it easier on you," Don told him. "First time you were sore after. I hadn't expected to do what we did and I thought the condom lubricant would be enough. I bought this stuff on the off-chance you and I might end up here again." He smiled at Danny and moved back between the man's legs, grabbing a pillow along the way. "Hips up."

Danny looked at him and raised his legs more out of instruction than anything else. Don slid the pillow under his hips. "I thought I was going to... next time," Danny said.

Don grinned at him and reached down to stroke Danny's erection a little. "You're wasted, Messer," Don told him. "If you're feeling up to it tomorrow..." he let the thought trail off as he pressed his hooded erection against Danny. "Bear down."

Danny braced himself for the burst of white pain that he'd felt the first time. His hands fisted into the sheets as Don pressed into him but that burst wasn't there. The only thing he felt was a slight pop, a pressure, then incredibly full. His head spun and he had to close his eyes. He moaned loudly. "Ohhh God, Don!"

Don eased himself into Danny's body and stopped when he'd seated in as far as he could. Danny's head rocked back and forth but the look of pain wasn't there. His lips were parted, his eyes were comfortably shut and his face exuded sheer pleasure. A wicked little smile crossed Don's features and he started to move inside Danny, sliding in and almost out of the man slowly. "Atta boy... relax... that's it." He leaned over Danny on his hands and knees and started shifting into the man faster and harder.

Danny's hands went up and caressed Don's chest, back and shoulders. Finally, as Don started to rock him hard, he reached around the man and just hung on for dear life. His testicles ached, his own erection throbbed against his abdomen and his head was spinning. Danny's breath came in moans now; Don's came in short grunts. Seconds later, Danny felt that familiar tingle as his testicles started to release. He cried out the man's name as he released white fluid between them.

Don continued to rock into Danny after the man had ejaculated. He was close too; hearing Danny's moans and cries only made it worse. Danny was almost limp under him, hanging on to his back out of sheer will. A few quick, short thrusts and Don released into the condom, buried deep inside of Danny's body.

He slipped out of Danny as soon as he started to soften, and rolled the condom off carefully. He dumped it into the trash can next to his bed and snagged one of the towels to clean off both their stomachs from Messer's mess.

Danny hadn't moved since he ejaculated. He couldn't. He felt like his body had melted into the bed. He ached, but it was a good, satisfying ache. His head was swimming and he swore he felt every spot of his pulse with each heartbeat. He felt Don wipe down his stomach and pull the pillow out from under his hips, then he felt the larger man settle down next to him, an arm and leg draped over him.

"You okay, Messer? Still with me?"

"Uh-huh," Danny lied. He wasn't there. He was somewhere between unconsciousness and la-la land.

Don grinned and traced a finger across Danny's bare chest. "Sore?"

_Sore? Pain?_ A smile crossed Danny's features. "No," he slurred. "No pain."

"You're wasted, Danny."

"Mm-hmm." Danny couldn't argue with that, even if he wanted to.

Don leaned over and pressed his lips to Danny's once more, soft and tender. "Go to sleep, Danny," he murmured against him.

Seconds later, Danny couldn't remember anything. His world drifted into a deep slumber... and Don was right behind him.

FIN

Author note: With enough interest, I'll see about covering the next day. Both men have the day off and Danny has yet to reciprocate.


End file.
